


Shipwrecked

by conquerlove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Depression, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Ocean, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conquerlove/pseuds/conquerlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam finds a boy washed up on the beach outside his isolated seaside cabin who remembers nothing, besides the letter of his first name... Z. Liam is taken with Z, but when he finds a secret to Z's past, he must decide whether or not to tell him about the life he left, or to keep him in the dark, for his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shipwrecked

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic in 2012 during the Take Me Home era, hence Zayn's blond streak, and tattoos on just his arm. I apologize for Harry and Louis in advance. Also, please understand that this is an adult fic that deals with difficult issues. Be aware as you proceed, and thanks for reading.

Liam stood out on the balcony, wind whipping and tugging at his hair while he watched the waves beneath him. It was a dull overcast evening, the air clouded with mist, and the sound of the sea calmed him. He had moved here to this aging seaside home, the paint chipping, the wood warped, to get away from it all. And while the ocean was always cold and the sky was always grey, he loved it out here. He truly felt at peace, just him, the house, and the little rowboat he owned.

The rain started to fall in delicate spatters on the old white-washed railing, a drop splashing down on the tip of Liam’s nose. He turned to go inside, but something caught his eye out there in the dim light. Barely noticeable, but there it was, something dark in the sand had just washed up in the surf. In bare feet, Liam crept down the steps of the old creaking staircase to the beach below and walked down to the waterside, his feet leaving messy footprints in the wet sand. 

As he drew closer, he realized what had washed up looked strikingly like a person, and he ran. He had never seen anyone out here before at his secluded piece of beach, and this one wasn’t moving. He dashed to the side of the body, falling to his knees in the sand. A boy, clothed, face down in the sand. Liam quickly rolled him over, brushing sand from his face, the boy’s dark hair wet and flat against his forehead. His long-lashed eyelids were closed limply, eye whites barely showing underneath. Liam leaned in and listened for his breath, but there was none.

Liam bit his lip, afraid he had just found a dead boy, but despite his wet cold skin, he was sure there was warmth underneath. He put both hands to the boy’s chest, and upon feeling a fragile heartbeat within him, he pumped at his chest in rhythm. Then he leaned in, tilting up the boy’s chin and placing his lips to his, he blew air into him, feeling his chest rise beneath him as he exhaled air into the other’s body. He did this once more, pumping at his chest and breathing air into him, and suddenly the boy was coughing, rolling onto his side to sputter the water out from his lungs. Then he looked up with tired, weak eyes, noticing Liam.

“It’s alright,” Liam said in a low voice, patting him on the back. “You’ll be alright now.” He laughed despite himself, a soft smile at his lips. “I thought you were dead.”

The boy looked at him with narrow eyes, seeming to try to focus on him in the dim light of the mist surrounding them. “Do I know you?” he whispered hoarsely.

Liam drew his brows together, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.” 

The boy nodded, looking disappointed, and began to shiver, his hands trembling from cold. 

Liam knew what he had to do. “I’m taking you inside,” he said, tilting his head to indicate the house up the beach, the faint yellow light from the windows visible through the fog. He stood up, his feet sinking into the sand, and took the other’s wrists, pulling him up. He kept a hold on one wrist to tug him along, but the boy stumbled and fell in the sand, still weak. Liam looked at him for a moment, his mouth twisting as he contemplated, then simply bent down and swept the boy up into his arms. He offered no resistance, hanging limp like a doll as Liam carried him up the beach, to the creaking stairs and through the back door into the warm house. 

Once inside, Liam took him into the bathroom and set him down on the mosaic floor while he ran hot water into the old claw-foot tub. As the steaming water rose from within the tub he stripped the boy, peeling the soaking wet shirt off of him and removing his pants. Liam wasn’t sure if it was the heat from steam or a blush making his cheeks feel hot as he helped the naked boy into the tub, firmly holding his ice-cold hand to steady him over the side. As he slipped into the water, Liam heard him sigh in relief, the heat enveloping his body in a much needed embrace.

Liam turned to go, but the other’s voice stopped him, a quiet command. “Stay.”

Liam knelt down beside the tub on the fuzzy bath mat, his eyes level with the other. In the light, he could see the boy’s eyes were a striking hazel, and in his dark hair was a random streak of bleached blonde, distinguishing itself as his hair dried. Liam fought off a smirk. 

“Where am I?” The boy’s accent told Liam he couldn’t have travelled too far. At least he was from Britain.

“This is my home. Off the west coast, not far from Newquay. But I’m surprised to find you on this beach, not many people live around here.”

The boy sucked in his lips in contemplation, staring at the clouds of steam rising from the bath as he hugged his knees protectively to his body. It seemed as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” The boy shook his head sadly.

Liam looked at him, studying his face, his eyes lingering on his lips, soft and regaining their color. “What’s your name?”

“No, that’s just it. I don’t know. I can’t seem to remember how I got here.”

Liam swallowed, incredulous. “You don’t remember your name?” he asked hoarsely, before clearing his throat.

The boy shook his head.

“How about a letter? Can you remember what it started with?”

The boy lay back in the tub, staring at the ceiling trying to think, and Liam fought the urge to look over the side to see his body once more. “I can’t swim,” he said after a pause, as if it answered the question.

“I could tell,” Liam offered jokingly. “Well. I think, if I had a proper guess, you fell off a boat. Were you…fishing? Or a cruise? A tourist boat? Sailing? Perhaps you with your family? Or…a girlfriend, maybe?” Liam raised an eyebrow at him.

The boy shook his head at each guess. “I have no idea, any of those, I can’t, I… Z.”

“You can’t…Z?”

“No, Z. Z. My name started with a Z.”

“Oh good. Zach, was it?”

The other thought about it, but shook his head.

“Or… huh…Zander? I don’t really know many Z names.”

The boy held up his hands in a sad shrug.

“We can just call you Z. If you don’t mind.”

Z nodded. “Fine by me. And you are, then?”

“Oh, Liam.” This time he knew he was blushing, and his smile broadened. “Liam,” he said again, looking down at the bath mat and running his hands across the yarn.

“Thank you, Liam. You gave me CPR, didn’t you?”

“I found you near dead on the beach. Had to, mate,” Liam stood back up.

“No, of course, thank you,” Z looked up with his wide eyes. “You saved me.”

Liam smiled, unable to deny the statement. “I’ll make you something to eat.” 

It was evening, but Liam was cooking up eggs and bacon and toast. It was easy and fast, and breakfast for dinner was part of his routine. Living alone for so long would do that. He was pulling the bread out of the toaster when he turned to see Z standing right behind him, the white towel draped loosely around his waist, the rest of his body on display standing there in his living area. Liam felt himself grow hard within the confines of his jeans and tried to hide his lower half from Z’s view behind the counter.

“I don’t have anything dry to put on.” Z said with a sheepish blush.

“Oh. I...you can grab anything out of my closet you think will fit.” Liam pointed to the bedroom door, not wanting to move out from behind the counter.

“Alright.” Z smiled, and in a few minutes returned simply wearing Liam’s midnight blue bathrobe, a sliver of his chest still visible in a v-shape running down to his belly where he tied the robe off.

Liam had calmed down his arousal but was still on edge as Z came over to him, reaching around Liam to snatch a piece of toast. He grinned cheekily as he nibbled at it, and Liam couldn’t fight the urge as he reached for him. Z raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Liam realized what he was doing, his hand in midair poised to touch him. He decided to follow through, trying not to act embarrassed, and gently laid the back of his hand across Z’s forehead, then against his cheek. “You seem better now. You were so cold when I found you.” He noticed Z leaned into the touch, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked away shyly. Liam was pleased. They were both enjoying this. 

He trailed his hand down Z’s cheek to his neck, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing the skin, and Z skitted away like a deer, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he crinkled up his nose. “Stop.” Z put a hand to where Liam had touched him, rubbing his neck. “So… let’s eat,” he said, trying to distract from it.

Liam raised an eyebrow at him, but grabbed the plates and set them on the big wooden dining table. “Sit,” he commanded with a smile, pulling out a chair for him.

As they ate, Liam watched the shoulder of Z’s robe slowly slipping down, revealing his collarbone, the curve of his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice, or care at least, happily eating the food that Liam provided for him. 

“So…” Liam watched him, contemplating him as he crunched on a piece of bacon. “You don’t remember anything, from before?”

“….Colors,” Z answered, spreading some honey butter on a piece of toast. “I kind of remember some shapes and colors.” Then he smiled sadly. “So pretty much nothing.”

“You remembered the first letter of your name. It’ll come back eventually.” He picked up his plate to take to the sink, patting Z gently on his bare shoulder as he walked back to the counter. Z reached for his hand, tugging it back gently as Liam passed.

“What?” Liam asked, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, hanging back so Z could keep a hold on him. 

Z shook his head and let him go, following suit and handing over his plate while Liam washed the dishes. 

“Check your pants.” 

“Hm?”

“Your pants.” Liam pointed with the wet sponge in his hand back to the bathroom. “See if you have a wallet.”

“Oh.” Z went in to dig through his wet clothes, but he came back with a frown. “Nothing. I…I don’t mean to trouble you but…” He flopped down on the couch and pulled his legs up, bundled up under the robe. “I don’t know what to do. I have nowhere to go.”

Liam set the dishes on the rack to dry and came over to him. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t mind the poor guy staying with him for the night, but what then? Surely someone would report him missing, and he could be returned like a lost puppy. Liam sat down next to Z, the couch barely big enough for two, and tried to offer a smile. “I’m sure you’ll remember more in the morning,” he said, though he didn’t necessarily believe it. 

“And I don’t even know how I can thank you,” Z continued as if Liam hadn’t spoken, getting lost in frustration. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. You saved my life, and now I’m eating your food and wearing your clothes and-”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up, you’ve been through a lot. I don’t mind the company, really. It’s nice to have someone around. It’s usually just me and myself most nights.” 

Z cocked his head. “How come?”

“I…” Liam shook his head. “Went through a dark time in my life. I just needed to get away from everything for a while.”

“Well I like it. The house I mean.” He gazed around at the old wooden furniture, the little ship in the bottle up on the bookshelf, the tattered rug on the floor. “Very conveniently located for saving me from the sea.”

“You remembered that, though. You remembered you couldn’t swim.”

“Would it be so hard to guess, though? And-” Z gasped, suddenly, his eyes wide as he stared across the room.

“What is it?” Liam asked, but Z was far off in another place, apparent in his frozen expression. Liam leaned in and gently tilted Z’s face towards him, and his eyes focused on Liam, afraid but relieved as he saw Liam looking back at him. 

“It came back to me just now. Just…being pulled under. The burning in my lungs, I couldn’t find the surface it was so dark and …” He closed his eyes and shook his head, Liam’s fingers still holding his face. “It was awful.”

“Then don’t think about it.” 

Z looked up at him, his eyes darting back and forth to focus on Liam’s, then down at his lips for a brief moment. He opened his mouth to say something but Liam stopped him.

“You don’t need to remember it all now. You should get some rest. That’s probably the best thing for you. Then you can dream about your past life and tell me who you are in the morning.” He smiled at him reassuringly and stood up, but Z frowned up at him as he pulled away.

“What if I can’t?”

Liam shrugged it off and took the big woven blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it over Z like a cape. Z looked up at him glumly, but Liam smirked and pulled the blanket all the way over Z’s head. “Don’t’ give me that face. You’ll be fine.” He patted the little ghost on the head and turned out the lights. It was too early to go to bed but he thought it would be best to let the boy rest after his near death experience. “Goodnight Z,” he said as he saw the silhouette of Z in the darkness pulling the blanket off his head, his hair stuck up in all directions.

Liam retreated to his bedroom and shut the door, then thought better of it and kept it open just a crack, in case Z might need to ask him something. He turned on a lamp on his bedside table in the tiny room, getting rid of his sandy clothes in favor of simply a pair of flannel pajama pants, not wanting to sleep naked with a guest in the house. He took up a book and lay on his bed reading, getting lost for an hour or so. No sound came from out of the living room, and Liam had almost half forgotten the presence of the other boy when he finally closed the book and turned on his side, clicking off the lamp and burrowing his face into the pillow.

The door creaked, and Liam heard the padding of Z’s feet across the floorboards of the bedroom. Liam’s eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet, and he turned his head to the sound. “Z, you okay?”

And suddenly, Z was crawling up onto his bed and straddling Liam, leaning down to kiss him and begging for a response, his hands cradling Liam’s face. Liam was caught off guard, but as he let his hands find Z’s body he realized the desperate boy on top of him was completely naked, pressing his hard cock against the soft fabric of Liam’s pants.

“Wait,” Liam breathed into the other boy’s mouth, pushing Z back. Z whimpered in protest but Liam took hold of his shoulders and guided him back. “What if…” He didn’t want to say it, not wanting to end what was about to happen, but he had to. “What if you’re in love with someone already? And they’re looking for you right now?”

He could hear Z breathing in the dark, but his face was impossible to read. “…If I can’t remember them, what does it matter?” he said, his voice a low whisper. “And if there’s no one anyway, why stop?”

Satisfied with the answer, his own cock now hard and pressed up against Z, he put his hand to the back of Z’s neck and pulled him back into the kiss. His lips were soft, perhaps a little dry from the salt of the sea but Liam ran the tip of his tongue along them, wetting them for Z before he slipped his tongue into his mouth, tasting him further. Z moaned softly and pushed his hips up against him, ready for more as he toyed with the hem of Liam’s pants. In one smooth motion, Liam bucked his hips up and pulled the pants down from in between them, kicking them away, and there the two of them were tangled up naked on his small bed, their twin erections throbbing against one another.

“Tell me what you want,” Liam said quietly, his fingers stroking Z’s cheek. He couldn’t see him but the touches were all they needed, and his body felt electric with someone in finally his arms again, this stranger whose hands were roaming all over his body. 

“I want you,” Z whispered back, his voice rough in his throat. 

“I know, but-”

“I want you inside me because I feel so empty right now,” Z said, the words coming out shaky as if he were on the verge of tears. “I feel like I’m nothing, like I don’t belong, like-”

“Shhh.” Liam brushed his thumb beneath Z’s eye, feeling a tear and wiping it away. “You can belong to me tonight.” His own words sparked a possessive urge inside of him, and he realized that the other boy, so lost and confused, just wanted to be told what to do. “Sit up,” he said abruptly.

Z did as Liam commanded, dismounting him and sitting on the bed, waiting. 

“Give me a second. You stay right there.” Liam got up and headed to the bathroom. It had been a while since he had done this, he didn’t have anything ready in the bedroom. He opened up the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of lubricant, and came back, his cock still hard and ready as if to guide the way back to Z. He stopped at the edge of the bed. “C’mere.”

Z crawled across the bed and placed a hand on Liam’s chest, relieved that their contact could resume. Liam bit his lip to stifle a groan as he realized how close Z’s mouth was to his cock. He gently placed his hand on Z’s head and guided him downward, Z’s lips kissing the tip of his sensitive cock before opening his mouth and letting him in. Z sucked on him, slowly as if in a trance, and Liam had to stop himself from thrusting, knowing that the poor boy had almost drowned only hours before. He didn’t want to hurt him. “Good,” he purred, running his hands through Z’s thick hair, allowing himself to move in and out of his mouth with the slightest motion to match the rhythm of his tongue.

The teasing was so intense that Liam shuddered, tensing, and pulled out of his mouth, not wanting to end so soon. “Turn around,” he commanded, and Z obliged, turning around and waiting on all fours on the bed, his ass to Liam. 

Liam took the lubricant, squeezing a bit onto his hand before tossing the bottle aside. He spread it across his fingers and gently pushed them into Z, first one, then two, then a third, making sure he was ready. Z gasped with pleasure as his fingers moved inside him, and once Liam was satisfied, he pulled out his slick fingers and passed them over his own cock for good measure. Then, taking the boy’s hips and gripping them firmly, he pushed into him, sheathing his cock and loving how snugly he fit inside him. 

Z moaned softly, pushing against him for him to go deeper, and Liam reached around to stroke his cock, not wanting to forget Z’s pleasure too. Z was rock hard and he thrust against Liam’s hand, Liam rocking his hips against Z to keep up. They moved together, Liam growling deep in his throat as the desire started to overtake him. He dug his fingers more firmly where he grasped Z’s hip, his other hand stroking artfully at his cock. Liam thrust harder once more, and Z came into his hand, crying out, his body convulsing around Liam’s cock. Liam panted and once against gripped him with both hands, fucking him hard until he came too, filling up the emptiness within Z.

He stood there, still gripping him and breathing hard, until he let himself relax, his hands loosening. He slowly slipped out of him and left for a moment, finding a towel to clean his hands before returning. Z was lying on the bed, but when he saw Liam come back he quickly got up and stood aside as if he was doing something wrong. 

Liam walked past him and got into the bed, holding up the sheet invitingly, waiting. “Come sleep with me. You don’t have to go back to the couch.”

Liam heard him sigh in relief as Z slithered into bed beside him, curling up against him and nuzzling his neck. “Did that help jumpstart your memories?” Liam asked jokingly, stroking his back. “Remember anything?”

“Yea,” Z laughed softly. “I remember I like sex.”

Liam felt a twinge of jealousy pass through him before he hugged him tighter to his chest. “Yes. I can tell.” 

In the morning, Liam was startled to wake up and find a warm body in his arms, but when it all came back to him, he laughed at his own forgetfulness. Z was breathing softly, still asleep and using his chest for a pillow. Liam carefully slipped out from beneath him and went off to take a shower. 

As he stood in the tub underneath the faucet, the water flowing down his body, he tried not to get anxious. What does one do with a lost soul? Z had no one to call if he couldn’t remember anyone. Liam guessed the best thing to do would be to call the police and see if anyone had been reported missing, perhaps from a boat accident. Maybe if he turned on the tv he’d find out about some tragedy at sea that happened yesterday. 

And what if, he thought, turning to let the hot water run down his back, he’s some sort of criminal on the run? And telling someone about him would deliver him right to the police? Liam smirked at the unlikelihood, but the idea was a bit romantic. 

After the shower, he dressed and went barefoot out the back door. As he always did, he dragged the rowboat from its place near the house down to the shore and hopped in, but this time isn’t wasn’t for an idle row. As he pulled the oars with his taut arms, he searched the water, looking for signs of debris, for scraps, anything that might have washed up with Z. Save for splinters of wood caught up in the tide, no more than usual, he gathered, there was no sign of anything. If there had been it had moved off last night with the tide. 

When Liam turned back to head to shore, he caught a glimpse of Z standing out on the balcony, waiting for him to come back in, wearing an old sweater of Liam’s. Liam faced away from him as he rowed back to the beach but the thought that someone was there to wait for him was still so foreign. Strange but lovely. And the fact that Z was wearing Liam’s own clothes was a bit of a turn on, if he was honest with himself. 

He leapt out of the boat and began pulling it to shore, but as he did he felt something small and hard under his foot. “Ow,” he grumbled as he kicked it aside, another shell caught under his foot. The glint caught his eye, and his brows drew together as he saw what it was, silver in the sand. He bent down and picked it up, shaking the sand off. Not a shell at all, but a ring, sterling silver it seemed. At first he didn’t think much of it, but then he realized this was about the spot where he found Z. He took a closer look, and saw that there was something written on the inside, carved into the metal. Sand was stuck in the inscription though, making it unreadable, so he walked back to the water and stuck it in, cleaning the ring with deft fingers. 

He held it up in the sunlight, turning it over close to his face, and saw it there on the ring. Zayn. That must be Z’s name. This had to be his, it looked so new, not like something that had been weathered on the beach for any length of time. But there was more. He turned it and saw was written before it. Harry loves. Harry loves Zayn. Liam quickly palmed the ring, squeezing it in his fist, wanting to make it disappear. Fuck.

What is this, he thought to himself as he turned to glance at Z, still up on the balcony back up the beach. He couldn’t possibly see what Liam had found from this distance. Liam shoved the ring in his pocket and continued to haul the rowboat up the shore. He had a boyfriend. Or even worse, a fiancé, a husband. And ‘Harry’ was probably worried sick, calling the police and waiting for him to be found. 

Liam tied his boat to the rails under the house and climbed the stairs to meet Z, who was looking at him with hopeful eyes. Liam’s grey sweater was a little big on him, but Z seemed so perfect in it anyway that Liam felt a territorial wave wash over him. He’s mine, he thought to himself. He belongs to me now. The thought was unbidden, but nevertheless echoing in his head. And how could he think that, he reprimanded himself, when he only just met him…

“Did you find something?” Z asked expectantly.

“Nothin’. Bottle cap.” Liam shrugged, taking his hand and leading him back in the house.

“Liam,” Z said, trailing behind him back into the house.

Liam turned and saw Z’s pained expression. The back door was left open, the salty sea air coming in to the house. 

“I remembered something. I dreamed it, and I know it’s real.”

Liam’s throat grew tight, but wasn’t he supposed to be happy for Z? “What was it?”

“I fell. I remember falling, before hitting the water and being pulled under.”

Liam saw it in his mind. Z falling from a boat, over the rail. Drunk, no…not drunk. Pushed. Pushed by Harry! He meant to kill Z, and it was Liam’s job to keep him safe. He was in the right after all, he-

“Liam?”

Liam shook the thought from his head and gave a reassuring smile. “Yea?”

“Can I watch the news? There might…there might be something. Something about what happened.”

“Sure.” Liam turned on the tv for him, wary, changing to the first news channel. There was nothing about a boat, nothing about accidents at all going on, but he handed the remote over to Z. “Check all the lower channels I suppose. I’m going to be…right over here.” He picked up his laptop and slinked away to the dining table, away from Z. 

Opening it, he started a search. Zayn + missing, results within twenty four hours. Nothing, nothing about an actual person named Zayn being missing. Zayn + accident. Again, same issue, nothing that made sense in regards to Z. Liam bit his lip and then tried Harry + missing. Here he got a lot of results, but they were all different people, there was no way of knowing and most were Americans. He tried Harry + Zayn together, but all he got was unrelated links for some boy band. More combinations. Zayn, sea, boat, missing, drowned, nothing. No related articles. He let out a sigh. Did police release information about missing persons? They’d have to, right, informing is the only way to find someone who was missing, after all. So no one knew he was missing yet? And what if the ring wasn’t even his after all? 

He looked up, Z still watching tv, but the news was showing something about a car pile-up in London. Z changed the channel and the next station was advertising a local bar. Z seemed defeated. Liam’s heart sunk, guilty, and the ring in Liam’s pocket felt heavy, burning a hole in his thigh. 

“Zayn,” he tried softly.

Z looked over his eyes wide. “That’s my name,” he said without hesitation. “Zayn,” he repeated. “Zayn….how-”

“I…” Liam shook his head and shrugged. “Just thought of another Z name. There are so few.” Truthfully he would never have come up with the name before seeing the ring. “C’mere,” he said, after a reluctant thought.

Zayn got up and came over, inviting himself to sit in Liam’s lap.

Liam opened up Facebook. He typed in Zayn, United Kingdom, and tilted the computer for Zayn to use. Zayn studied the list, but it seemed the results were all different Zayns than this one. There were a couple empty accounts as well, with no information or personal pictures. Liam was relieved, and mad at himself for being so. “Maybe your account’s on private.”

“Maybe I don’t have one,” Zayn sighed. 

“Zayn…at…gmail dot com,” Liam offered jokingly, typing it in to the login. 

“Stop,” Zayn laughed. “But thanks for trying to help,” he smiled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. Liam could feel his face getting hot, anxiety flooding through him again. But then the beast in the back of his mind came back. _Finders keepers, Harry,_ it growled in satisfaction. 

He pushed the computer away and grabbed Zayn around the waist, standing up and throwing him down on the kitchen table. He practically ripped down the pants, his own pants on Zayn’s body, to get them off, and threw them aside. Taking his cock in his mouth, he sucked at him greedily. This is mine now, he thought, claiming him for his own. His hands ran up Zayn’s chest under the soft sweater, and he felt the boy twitch beneath him as he absently trailed his fingers. _Wearing my clothes, in my house, he’s mine._

After his orgasm, Zayn lay purring on the old wooden table, Liam sitting in the chair beside him stroking him like a pet cat. Liam peppered kisses down Zayn’s bare thigh, running his nose along the soft skin. “Zayn…”

Zayn sat up and buried his fingers in Liam’s hair, the sweater falling back down his torso to cover him as he sat up. 

“How do you feel now that you know your name?”

The smile melted from Zayn’s face and he leaned back. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been reset, you know. Like am I still that person, if I have nothing personal left? Or am I someone new? Maybe I’m not Zayn anymore. Just Z.” 

“Do you want to be someone new?” Liam asked, looking up at him, trying to mask the eagerness in his tone.

“How can I know the answer to that?” Zayn slipped off the table and padded off to the door, still standing open, and watched the sea. Liam stared at the lost soul in his doorway, covered only by the sweater. It was quiet for a while, Zayn not speaking or moving.

“What I’ve never understood,” Liam said after a time, coming up behind Zayn. “Is if someone forgets everything, how can they still speak English?”

Zayn turned to him, his lips twitching into a smirk as if he thought Liam might be joking. “They’re completely different part of the brain. The memories, and the language center. You can damage one and not the other.”

“Ah,” Liam nodded. 

Zayn laughed. “What would you have done then, if I had turned up completely mute?”

“Nothing we didn’t already do. Perhaps more.”

“Ha! You’d take advantage of me, just like that? A poor helpless boy who’s forgotten all he knows?”

“Never,” Liam said, his throat closing up again, his forehead burning with a fever of guilt. “It’s not taking advantage if you want it, too.” 

Zayn wrinkled his nose up and grinned, reaching for Liam, but Liam caught his wrist. He pushed the sleeve of the sweater up to Zayn’s elbow. “What about these? Do they do nothing for you?” he asked, gesturing to the forearm full of bad tattoos collaged there.

“I don’t know what any of them mean, no,” Zayn said, his mouth twisting in contemplation. 

“This one though…”Liam pointed to the awful lettering. “Why…”

Zayn punched him in the shoulder. “Hey! He did it, not me.”

Liam frowned thoughtfully. “Him? …Your past self? So you do want to be someone new, then.”

“If I never remember, I’ll have to be,” Zayn said with a shrug.

“And what does…Z…like then? What does he want to do?” Liam cocked his head at him with a coy smile.

“I’m not sure. This is Z’s first day. He needs time to figure it out.”

“Well, I know what Z _should_ do.” Liam scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder, Zayn yelping in surprise. 

“What are you doing!?”

Liam hauled him down the stairs and walked determinedly across the sand towards the water. “Perhaps Z should learn to swim.”

“No! No no, what!? You don’t take a person who almost _drowned,_ ” he said frantically, struggling in Liam’s grip, “And throw them in the water, you idiot! I’m traumatized, don’t you know!?”

“You seem fine to me,” Liam smacked Zayn’s ass playfully.

“Fine!? Fine!? I’m half a person right now! I am fragile, I am shattered, no listen, listen to me! Listen to what I am saying!!” He kicked out, pounding his fists on Liam’s back. Liam walked down to the shore and pulled him off his shoulder, grabbing the sweater and pulling it over Zayn’s head as he tried to get away, and then pushed him into the shallows. Zayn fell on his ass in the water, shrieking, as Liam wiggled out of his own clothes and joined him. He waded in and grabbed Zayn under the arms, dragging him in further while he whimpered and thrashed in his grip. 

The water soon went up to Liam’s waist, then his chest, and Zayn scrambled to attach himself like a leech, throwing his arms and legs around Liam to cling to him. Liam grinned and held him, stroking his back. “You’re fine. Stop panicking.”

Zayn pressed his forehead to Liam’s, shivering. “It’s also freezing, you jerk,” he said in a harsh whisper, his arms wrapped tightly around Liam’s neck to hold on. 

“It’s not bad at all,” Liam smirked, nosing him. He felt Zayn’s heart hammering in his chest like a frightened rabbit, pressed up against him. “Don’t be afraid of the water. Your new self won’t drown if he knows how to swim.”

“I _fell,_ I told you. The drowning was a side effect.” 

“Whatever,” Liam said, kissing him to shut him up. They stayed like that for some time, Liam just holding him and Zayn not letting go, until Liam decided they should go back. The initial step was to overcome the fear, and Zayn had calmed down in his arms and had even started to smile. That was all Liam wanted.

They walked back up the beach, carrying their clothes, and Liam kept a protective hold around the pocket of his pants, determined for the ring to stay hidden away for as long as possible. 

The next day, Zayn asked to go into town. Fear gnawed at the back of Liam’s mind, but he was planning to go out anyway, and he would never be so cruel as to ask Zayn to stay behind. He wasn’t a pet, much as Liam wanted to keep him hidden away. They both got into Liam’s beat-up car and he drove them towards the town. Zayn watched out the window as the coastline passed by, staring with wary eyes at the churning waves, and as the car climbed up the incline, pulling them away from sea level, Zayn spoke up. “Liam, what day is it?”

“Hm, Tuesday.”

Zayn flicked his eyes over to Liam. “Do you…have a job?”

“Uh,” Liam licked his lips, embarrassed. “Kinda…well, no. No, not really.” 

“Oh. I didn’t mean to talk down to you or anything. It’s just that, I don’t have any money, and I feel bad having to ask you to buy me anything.” 

_Don’t worry_ , Liam thought. _We both have something to feel bad about._

“I can’t even buy myself some clothes. And I don’t want you-”

“No, it’s fine. Really, Zayn, it’s fine. I can pay for you.”

“But how are you-“

“I’ve got a savings, for now. I’m just taking a break from life, that’s all.”

“Oh. What happened,” Zayn turned back to the window, asking the question to the reflection in the glass, “that you had to stop living?”

Liam sighed, not wanting to bring it up, but feeling like he owed him an answer. “My ex. Niall. I couldn’t be in the same city with him anymore.”

“Why?”

“Oh, everything and anything. We were terrible for each other. We always fought and then I’d come back crawling and he’d just be so…I don’t know, disinterested. Like he wasn’t paying attention to me, it drove me nuts. I’d come home and, forgive me,” Liam glanced warily at Zayn, “but I’d really want sex, and he’d just be sitting there eating a fucking leg of chicken at two in the morning and pretending like I wasn’t there. It’s like he stayed up that late just to torture me, just to show me he didn’t care about me.” Liam shook his head, his lips tensed in annoyance. “Sorry, I just…anyway. And then we broke it off and he got someone else and I freely admit, I am a jealous bastard. I just couldn’t be around it, seeing them out at the same places I liked to go. So, I quit my job and moved way out here. Thought I’d spend time with myself for a while.”

“Oh. I’m kind of ruining that for you then, aren’t I? Your solitude?” Zayn watched him with sad eyes, looking helpess.

“What? No. No. I’m really happy you…showed up. I’ve been out here for many months. It’s nice to have someone new.” He blushed right after her said it, biting his lip and staring out at the road.

“Wait.” Zayn leaned forward and turned up the volume of the radio, which had been playing quietly in the background. _The only girl I’ve ever loved…_ “Was born with roses in her eyes,” Zayn sang along, swaying his head to the music.

Liam thought nothing of it at first but then stole a glance at him, his eyebrows knitted together. “You remember this song.” 

Zayn kept singing but smiled around his words with a shrug. When the next song came on he knew that one too. He’s getting better, Liam thought. His memories were still there, uncovering themselves. 

When they got into town, Liam let Zayn borrow enough money to buy himself some new clothes, though Liam secretly hoped he would keep wearing the sweaters he had back at the house. As they walked to a café down the sidewalk, Zayn stopped dead in his tracks, looking up a cross street. 

“What?” Liam said, nearly running into him. 

“I know this place. I’ve been here. Like a lot.” 

“This town?” Liam asked.

“…Maybe.” Zayn shook his head and continued on. 

“Are you from here?” Liam caught up to him.

“It all feels so familiar.” 

Liam swallowed, searching the street, staring at the pedestrians. If Zayn was a local, any of these people could be Harry. His eyes darted around nervously, but nobody noticed, nobody looked at Zayn. They were just passersby like everyone else. After eating bowls of hot soup and bread from the café, Liam still glaring suspiciously at any strange male he saw, they went to the grocery store. Everything seemed fine, as he picked up food for the week, a toothbrush for Zayn, and fresh lubricant, until Liam noticed that he was standing alone in the aisles. He searched the store, looking down every aisle for Zayn, and began to panic when he realized he had no way to contact him either. Zayn had no phone. 

Liam kept his calm, going up to pay for the groceries, and was leaving the store when he turned and saw Zayn standing idly in front of the cigarette counter at the front. He might have missed him if he hadn’t seen the distinct blond streak in Zayn’s hair in the corner of his eye. Liam walked up to him, concerned. “What are you doing?”

Zayn spun around, then shook his head, so much confusion in his eyes. “I don’t know!” 

Liam’s eyes flicked from Zayn to the cigarettes and back. “Well c’mon.” He took Zayn’s hand and gave him a gentle pull. 

“Wait, please…” Zayn drew his hand back. “I want to have my own money. I can’t ask you for yours.” He walked past the cigarette counter to the help desk, picking up a job application. 

When they got back in the car, Liam sat for a moment with the key in the ignition, watching Zayn. He was staring at the job application in his hands, frowning. “You don’t even know your last name, how could you even…” Liam trailed off, regretting his bluntness immediately.

“Yea,” Zayn agreed testily, crumpling up the piece of paper in a tight ball and throwing it on the floor. “I fucking know.” He slumped in his seat and crossed his arms. Liam frowned, about to apologize, but Zayn caught his eye with a glare. “Go. Just drive. I want to go back.” Liam nodded and started up the car. 

Later that night, Zayn lay on the couch curled up in a ball, not talking. Liam sat down beside him, petting him cautiously. “Hey, maybe you’ll remember you already have a job. And it’ll be fine,” he said softly, stroking Zayn’s hair.

“Maybe I’m already fired from it because I didn’t know to show up.”

From Zayn’s tone, Liam could tell he didn’t want a pep talk. He continued to pet him in silence for a little, Zayn closing his eyes and allowing it, before Liam got up and left him alone. A few hours later, when Zayn still hadn’t moved, Liam turned off the lights. “Goodnight,” he whispered awkwardly into the darkness, not sure if his companion was even awake or not. He disappeared into his bedroom, stripping off his clothes, and was about to climb into bed when suddenly Zayn was behind him, grabbing his shoulders. Zayn spun him around and kissed him roughly, biting Liam’s lip, and as Liam steadied himself, holding into Zayn, he found the other was already naked and ready. Zayn shoved Liam, toppling him back down onto the bed, and mounted him.

“Zayn,” Liam started to say, sitting up on his elbows, but Zayn pushed him back down with a growl at the back of his throat. Zayn wanted control, something he hadn’t had since he woke up on the beach. Liam let himself submit to Zayn’s demands, relaxing back into the pillow, his hard cock ready for anything Zayn wanted to do with him. 

Zayn grabbed the new bottle of lube waiting on the nightstand and unceremoniously coated Liam’s cock, Liam grunting in appreciation as Zayn’s hand worked its way up and down his shaft. His cock was left alone for a moment as Zayn got up on his knees and reached back to prepare himself for it, Liam running his hands up Zayn’s thighs while he waited. Then Zayn was positioning himself and sliding carefully down onto Liam’s cock, breathing out a heavy sigh as Liam filled him. Zayn sat there panting in excitement for a moment before starting to ride him, rolling his hips. His head was thrown back, his throat exposed, and a soft bit of moonlight from the window illuminated his skin. 

Liam moved with him, thrusting up into him as Zayn rocked on top of him, Liam gripping Zayn’s thighs possessively. He could feel how tense Zayn was, grinding out his frustration on Liam, trying to fuck it all away. Liam put his hand around Zayn’s cock, letting him move in and out of his grasp in time to each thrust. Zayn moaned gratefully as he reached his peak, coming onto Liam’s chest, and as his muscles tightened around Liam’s cock, Liam came as well, bucking up into him for one final thrust. 

When they had cleaned each other up, Zayn lay in Liam’s arms, spent and calm, his heartbeat pounding steadily against Liam’s chest. “What will we do with me?” he asked, his voice small.

“I’ll figure out something,” Liam said, his words empty and lifeless as he realized he couldn’t keep Zayn in the dark for much longer.

Days passed, and Liam spent them giving Zayn swimming lessons in the day and making love to him at night. Zayn remembered some of the movies and books Liam showed him, but he couldn’t place them in his life when he experienced them. He couldn’t remember much else of anything personal, and while he smiled at Liam and held him close, Liam could tell Zayn was crumbling from within, not knowing who he was or where he was supposed to go from here.

Liam’s guilt ate away at him, manifested in the ring still hidden from Zayn’s view, waiting to be found, stuck deep within Liam’s dresser beneath the clothes. It called to him, the tiny presence of Harry and the ring haunting the bedroom while they fucked and slept, and Zayn none the wiser. Liam knew he couldn’t keep his caged bird locked up like this. _And_ , Liam asked himself, _who knows if Zayn will react to the ring at all?_ He might not remember anything about it and then all this anxiety will have been in vain. 

The afternoon came when Liam looked out the window and saw Zayn sitting by himself on the beach, the wind fluttering his hair as he stared out at the water. Liam’s throat tightened again, the fear gripping him once more. _Do it_ , he urged himself, going to the drawer and closing the silver trinket tightly in his fist. He forced himself out the door and down the steps, the sand slowing his footsteps as he strode over to him.

“Zayn,” he said, standing a few feet behind him. 

Zayn turned to look over his shoulder, his hazel eyes bright and hopeful beneath his upturned brows. “Yea?”

“I, uh, found something.” He knelt down behind Zayn and took his wrist, turning his hand over and dropping the ring into it. “You need to see this.” He stepped back, waiting for the inevitable.

Zayn held it up, turning it in his hand, squinting as he noticed the inscription on the inside. His eyes widened slowly and he drew back, distancing himself from the ring in his hand. “What…” he said slowly, but Liam could see Zayn’s chest rising and falling, faster, his breath quickening. “Where…”

“It was in the sand,” Liam said. _Not a lie,_ he thought, his heart hammering within his ribs.

“…Harry,” said Zayn quietly. Liam wasn’t sure whether he was remembering or simply reading off the ring, but when Zayn slowly looked up and off at the horizon, twisting the ring back and forth between his fingers, and more seconds ticked by. Then his eyes moistened, a tear forming. 

Liam swallowed, trying to clear away the tightness in his throat. “Do you…remember something?” he tried, frightened.

Zayn was shaking, his hands closed around the ring. “Yes,” he said. Then lower, a whisper, “oh god.” 

Liam was startled when Zayn suddenly stumbled to his feet. “Zayn? Talk to me.”

“Fuck!!” he screamed out, and suddenly the ring was hurtling through the air and landing with a dull splash in the sea.

“What did you do that for!?” Liam yelped, running down the beach to the water. After all this time, the object seemed sacred. Liam dug underneath the water where he thought it fell, clouds of sand billowing up around his hands, but he couldn’t feel anything. 

“Leave it,” snapped Zayn, turning on his heel and heading back towards the house, his hands covering his face. He only made it a few paces before falling on his knees to the sand and curling up, his forehead to the ground. Realizing he was sobbing, Liam emerged dripping wet from the water and hurried to Zayn’s side, putting a hand on his back as he dropped down beside him. Zayn was trembling, his hands digging into his hair. 

“Tell me,” Liam whispered, scared that he broke Zayn. “Tell me what’s happened. What did you remember?”

“Harry,” he said mournfully between silent sobs. 

Liam didn’t know what to do, so he sat down in the sand and slowly stroked Zayn’s back, not knowing if his presence was making this better or worse for Zayn. After a moment, he forced himself to say it. “We can find him.”

“Nooo…” Zayn wailed into his hands.

“Hm?”

“He’ll hate me for what I’ve done.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. He…he has to forgive you. You’re not your old self, you didn’t know, when we… did these things together…”

Zayn shook his head several times. 

Liam leaned in close, realizing something. “Do you know where he lives?”

Zayn nodded.

“Does he live here?”

Zayn nodded again.

“We need to go see him,” whispered Liam. “He’ll know your name.”

Zayn sat up a little, turning his reddened eyes towards Liam and nodding. “Yea,” he said, his voice cracking. “That’s right.”

Liam brushed the sand from Zayn’s hair, his hands, his cheeks. “This’ll be a good thing,” he said, his voice constricted. _I can’t give him up, I won’t._

Liam stood up, and Zayn looked up at him with pleading, frightened eyes. “Are we going…now?”

“Well, would you rather stay scared?” Liam asked, feeling as if he was addressing the both of them, “Or get it over with?”

Zayn had no response, merely turning his head down in shame, and Liam gently hauled him to his feet and led him to the stairs and up to the house, brushing sand from him as they went. 

Liam picked up his keys from the counter when they got inside.

“ _Now_ now?” Zayn repeated, incredulous.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“An idea,” Zayn rubbed his forearm absently.

“We’ll wander about for it. C’mon. You don’t want to be in the dark any longer.” Liam took his hand to get him to start for the front door. It was strange to Liam how it was now he himself leading Zayn to Harry, after dreading the idea of him for so long. They got in the car. “Now what?” he asked, turning to Zayn.

“Drive to town and we’ll go from there,” he said.

As they drove, Zayn’s eyes focused on the scenery outside, at the cliffsides and the water beyond. “Zayn,” Liam said, his voice thick, “you threw the ring away. We won’t find it again.”

“I know,” he said, his voice hollow. 

They were silent after, but Liam tried again. “Now that you remember him…who would you…who…” He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. It wasn’t even his place to ask. He felt like an outsider. Who knew how long Zayn and Harry had been together? Long enough to get a ring engraved, that was certain. 

Liam’s hand rested on the shift stick beside him, and suddenly Zayn’s hand was on his, entwining their fingers and holding on tightly. Liam almost sighed in relief. Harry might have Zayn, but he had Z. Z would choose him, surely. And suddenly he couldn’t hold onto his guilt anymore. 

“I found that ring, the day after I found you.”

Zayn was silent, still holding his hand, but he felt Zayn’s fingers twitch. Liam flicked his eyes from Zayn to the road and back again, driving one handed and feeling nervous at the lack of response. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I was afraid.”

“So you knew. All this time.” Zayn continued to stare out the window. “And you didn’t guess my name after all, did you?”

“No,” Liam hated to admit.

Zayn withdrew his hand and Liam bit the inside of his lip hard, tasting blood. _Fuck honesty._

They were silent until they got to town, Liam unsure of what had just passed between them. He slowed the car down and Zayn pointed out the cross street where he had stopped before on the sidewalk, certain he had been there before. “Turn here,” he said quickly. Liam turned and they both looked out intently as they moved away from the shops towards residences. “And here,” Zayn said again, clearly feeling the way from a foggy memory. He led them to an old apartment building, and when they got out they found a directory posted by the door. Zayn studied the list of names, arranged by surname and first initial, but there was only one that started with an H. H.Styles, apartment 410. It was their luck that someone shortly exited the building, and they slipped in. Taking the stairs up, Zayn kept his distance on one side of the steps, not looking at Liam, but visibly frightened. 

Liam wondered if it would be best not to accompany him to his boyfriend’s place, surely this was a private matter. But if he didn’t, he would be giving up Zayn, and he couldn’t do that. Not yet. He walked with him down the hallway, his steps sure until they reached the door, where he faltered and stood aside for Zayn.

Zayn stared at the door for a moment. There was noise on the other side. A tv. Harry was home. Zayn lifted a shaking fist and knocked, quickly looking down at his feet once it had been done, awaiting what was to come.

Footsteps sounded behind the door, pounding the hardwood floor on the other side. Then the chain sliding in the lock, and distracted laughter. The door swung open, into the apartment, and there was a boy taller than Liam, a broad smiling face, curling brown hair. But he saw Zayn and his face fell, shocked. “Zayn?” Harry’s eyes darted to Liam, then back to Zayn. 

Zayn was staring at Harry, near frozen, his eyes wide. “Harry.” There was silence between them, both studying each other’s eyes.

Harry’s brows came together, confused . “What the fuck do you want?” His lips twisted into a cruel smirk as he looked Zayn up and down, a short laugh escaping him, and then another boy appeared behind Harry in the doorway, hip cocked out and eyebrow raised, lip curled in a snarl.

Liam suddenly felt a wave of rage. He grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, barreling him back into the apartment and up against the wall. “Don’t you _dare_ , do you have _any_ idea what he’s been through?” he growled. Harry was taller but Liam was broader, glaring up at him with gritted teeth. 

And suddenly Zayn was yelling at him, telling him to stop, and the other boy, short in stripes, was rasping “Hey! Hey!” at him like a cat’s hiss, trying to shove him back. 

Harry offered no resistance, only stared back down at him coldly without blinking. “Back off,” he said in a low voice, sneering.

With Harry not fighting back, Liam looked to Zayn, who was pleading and pulling on his arm. “Let him go, Liam!”

Liam released the hold on the front of Harry’s shirt, and Zayn pulled him towards the door. The other boy pushed him, and Liam spun around angrily to face him, but Zayn was already blocking Liam protectively, spitting venom at the other. “Stay out of it you cheap _slut._ ”

“Hey!” Harry yelled, incensed, and the boy in stripes made for Zayn, but Harry held out an arm. “Louis,” he said, looking at him intently. “Don’t.” Louis’s lips thinned and he glared at them in angry silence, obeying Harry.

“Why are you here?” Harry asked again, his words packed with malice. “Take your attack dog and go.”

“No, please,” Zayn said desperately. “I….I have to ask you…” 

When Zayn trailed off, Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded mockingly, impatient. “Yea? Well, what is it?”

“We’re trying to watch the X Factor,” Louis said with a pinched smile.

“Shut up!” Zayn was incensed. “Just shut the fuck up!” It looked like he was about to take a swing at Louis, but Liam grabbed Zayn by the elbows, pulling them back to hold him in place. “Dumb bitch,” Zayn whispered under his breath.

“Get out,” Harry said plainly. “I told you-“

“No, listen,” Zayn’s voice immediately changed, back to begging as he addressed Harry again. “I need…”

“Something happened,” Liam cut in. Zayn’s head whipped around, and he narrowed his eyes at Liam with a subtle shake of his head. 

“What now?” Harry demanded with a sigh.

Liam felt a spark of rage again and let go of Zayn, trying to muscle past him to Harry. “Hey, you don’t know what he’s been-”

“I assure you, I know enough,” Harry talked over Liam, his words loud and biting as he stretched himself taller to look down on him.

Liam was about to fly at him again but Zayn tugged him back sharply. “Stop! I just... Harry. Please. All I want is… I need…” He couldn’t say it, but he changed his demeanor, straightening his spine resolutely. “Do you have a key to my apartment?” 

Harry gave a bitter laugh. “Is that all you wanted?” He shook his head. “Yea, I still have the one you gave me. But, really, thank you,” he said as he moved to a small set of drawers behind him, a pile of mail sitting on top, “for coming in here and threatening me and insulting my boyfriend, I really appreciate that.”

Liam clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything else. Harry brought over the key, but thought of something and turned back to the table. “Oh, and please,” he opened the drawer again and pulled out an envelope. “Take this with you.” He shoved it and the key into Zayn’s hands and gestured broadly to the door. “Now leave.” 

Liam followed Zayn protectively as he backed out the door, flipping the envelope over. It was sealed. Zayn swallowed heavily. “You didn’t even-”

“Do I have to explain?” Harry shook his head in disbelief, holding onto the doorknob. “I wasn’t interested. Now please, leave us alone. Bye.” He slammed the door shut.

Zayn and Liam both stood stunned, staring at the door, the silence ringing out. Liam winced in confusion. “What just happened?”

“I…” Zayn bit his lip, frowning.

Liam turned his head slowly. “Harry’s not your boyfriend at all, is he?”

“Yeah. I just remembered that part.”

They turned and walked down the hall, Zayn in a state of confusion and Liam no better, and as they waited by the elevator, Harry’s door opened again. It was Louis though, who stuck his head out. “Zayn,” he said to them in a harsh whisper that carried down the hallway, “this time, _don’t_ come back.” 

Zayn whirled around and threw the key at Louis in frustration, clearly hoping it would stick in his forehead like a dart. It landed on the carpet halfway between them, and Louis pursed his lips at it, laughed mockingly, and shut the door.

Zayn punched at the elevator button several more times, full of anger, and Liam went back for the key, stooping and rescuing it. When he got back to Zayn, the elevator had opened, and they got inside.

“Zayn,” Liam started to say when the doors closed, but Zayn fell into him, clinging, his face buried in Liam’s chest. “Oh,” Liam said softly. “Okay then.” He stroked Zayn’s back soothingly, unsure of what was going on anymore.

When they got back in the car, Liam sat there for a moment, looking at Zayn, who was still silent and staring at nothing. “Zayn. Did you… did you make that ring yourself?” He was afraid to hear the answer.

Zayn turned to him, horrified, but a glimmer of fear in his eyes showed he was considering the same thought. “Y-you think I would do that? No! I’m not like that!” He shook his head firmly. “No!” he repeated. “Harry is my… ex, now. I _know_ we were together. I remember when he gave it to me. I do. He…loved me. I don’t remember what happened after… But it was real. I’m certain. And I know I hate that fucking bitch. Louis.”

“Well.” Liam wasn’t sure where to go from there. “I’m sorry, by the way. Sorry that didn’t go like I imagined. I thought it would help. You got your key at least, but now what. We didn’t get to ask about your-”

Zayn flicked out the envelope, interrupting Liam’s train of thought. It was a letter addressed to Harry, unopened. And there was a return address in the corner. With Zayn’s name on it, his apartment number, the street he lived on.

“Huh. Zayn Malik,” Liam read, trying it out, raising his eyebrows at him. Zayn nodded, his lips attempting a small, pained smile. He took back the envelope and tucked it away. Liam wanted to ask what was in it, but thought better of it. Zayn was probably too embarrassed as it was, at the moment.

Liam drove them to the street on the address, searching for the number of the building that was written down, and when they found it, Zayn didn’t want to get out of the car. Liam opened the door for him and learned his forehead on the frame of the car. “Don’t want to see your old things?” he asked imploringly.

Zayn sighed. “It’s just a lot, today. All of this. Me remembering Harry and then seeing Harry and what just…” he shook his head, smiling as if he couldn’t let himself believe how awful it all was, “even happened, I don’t know…and _Louis_. I feel like an idiot right now.”

“Zayn, it’s gonna be-“

“And you,” Zayn turned his head up and glared at him. “How can I trust you anymore?” 

Liam frowned, ashamed. “I knew it was wrong. I hated to keep it from you...It’s just that-”

“ _What?_ ”

“I wanted you to myself. That’s all.” They were both silent then, but after a few long seconds Liam continued. “Looks like you’re better off with me anyway.”

Zayn shot him an annoyed look, his mouth twitching to a smirk before resuming a frown. “That doesn’t mean I forgive you. You couldn’t have known that.” He got out of the car, pushing past Liam, the key closed firmly in his fist. 

_I did know. Nobody cared enough to notice your absence._ Liam tailed after him. “Why didn’t you want Harry to know about your memory loss?”

“I was humiliated enough just showing up.” 

This apartment complex had no lobby, just doors on the outside, and they climbed the stairs to the third floor. They stood outside 315, and Zayn hesitated with the key in the lock. He turned and looked at Liam. “Is this it then?”

Liam raised his eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

“This is my apartment. I don’t need to stay with you anymore.”

At Zayn’s words, Liam felt himself breaking into pieces inside. “Zayn…” 

Zayn turned away from him and turned the key, letting the apartment door swing open. He stepped in, Liam following, but Liam ran into him as Zayn froze in the doorway. 

“Oh my god,” Zayn said in a small voice. “What happened in here?”

Liam looked over Zayn’s shoulder. The apartment was in ruins, furniture broken, shards of glass and splintered wood littering the floor. Signs of a struggle. And it struck Liam that maybe Zayn’s mysterious accident wasn’t an accident after all. “Oh, shit…”

It looked as if Zayn was going to collapse, so Liam grabbed onto his shoulders to steady him, attempting to walk him towards a chair in the living area. Zayn spun around. “Liam, no,” he said, panicked. “I don’t want to be in here.” He half-heartedly leaned against Liam, trying to push him back towards the door.

“I’m going to look around. You can wait outside if it’s better for you,” Liam said resolutely. 

Zayn whimpered, then gave up, turning to check the doors next to them in the front hallway. The first was a coat closet, but the second was a bathroom and he went in, leaning over the sink seeming nauseated. 

Liam wanted to go to him, but realized space might be the best thing for Zayn now. Besides, Liam wanted to investigate. The living room was a frightening sight, but something caught his eye, partially hidden. He lifted up a stray couch cushion lying on the coffee table and there was a cell phone. Clearly Zayn’s, as he picked it up and pressed the button to wake it from sleep. It still had battery from going days untouched, and there were a few recent notifications. Missed calls from some unknown number, and a text from Harry from several days ago. _I thought I told you to leave me alone._ Was this sent before or after he found Zayn? He couldn’t remember the exact day he found Zayn but it was somewhere around the time.

Liam went over and stuck his head into the bathroom. “Zayn,” he said softly. Zayn was still leaning against the sink with his head down, and looked up at the sound of his name. Liam laid the phone gently on the counter beside him. “Yours.” 

In the kitchen it was less of a mess. On the fridge he saw photos of Zayn with friends. Zayn looked different though, his hair meticulously styled, like a model perhaps, not like the Zayn he was used to with his hair down across his forehead. Harry wasn’t in any of the photos. 

Liam ventured into the living room, stepping over broken bits of a lamp, and came to a desk. Opening the drawers, he sighed in relief as he found the important documents. His passport, records, bank statements, the core things Zayn would need to pick up his life again. 

The bedroom was a wreck too, but it was small and there wasn’t much here. Liam opened a drawer in the night stand, and found it empty save for a crumple of paper. He was about to close the drawer and move on, but then he saw that it wasn’t paper, it was a photo. He took it out and pulled it flat. It was Zayn and Harry, sharing a kiss out on a boardwalk, both looking genuinely happy. Zayn wore the ring, and Liam wondered how long ago it was, as there were no tattoos on Zayn’s arm. 

It _was_ real after all, not an invention. Even though Liam should have been relieved for the confirmation, he just felt angry. How could Harry be so cruel to Zayn? _No matter,_ thought Liam, crushing the photo in his fist and dropping it back into the drawer. He shoved it closed with his knee. _He’s with me now._

In a closet, he found an empty suitcase for traveling on the top shelf. He pulled it down and set it up on the rumpled bed, and was unzipping the case when he looked up to see Zayn watching him in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t be here ,” Liam replied. “I won’t let you stay in this mess.” He went back to the closet, aiming to grab some of Zayn’s clothes off the hangers.

“Stop,” said Zayn. Liam looked over his shoulder, about to suppress his protest, but Zayn came forward, reaching for the clothes. “I’ll do it.” Liam turned to leave him to it, but Zayn spoke up timidly. “Are you sure? I can just clean this up tomorrow, I don’t need to pack up...”

“I don’t want you here, this is clearly unsafe. I mean what even hap-” Liam stopped midsentence as he saw a wallet flopped down on the floor amidst the broken bits. He picked it up, and all of Zayn’s identification was there, along with some credit cards and cash. _His phone, his wallet? Why would he have left without them?_

Liam’s eyes flicked all around the room, trying to piece it all together. He turned slowly, his shoes crunching in the glass. _Someone must have gotten in. Someone who wanted to hurt Zayn…and Zayn..._ Liam’s eyes alighted in dismay upon a table where there lay scattered miscellaneous pills he hadn’t noticed before, a random selection gathered around an ashtray. _…in a drugged haze, tried to fight back but couldn’t overpower the intruder…_ He turned around and saw the lamp in broken ceramic pieces. _Amnesia, damage to the brain…he was hit on the head. Knocked unconscious. Removed and disposed of, dumped in the ocean. Maybe they thought he was dead._ Liam’s throat was closing up, and he realized his hands were trembling. _But why?_ And then his brain answered the question again, a series of dominos falling into place. _Zayn loved Harry. Harry left him for Louis. Zayn begged for Harry to come back. Zayn sent him a letter, left unopened. The text message: I thought I told you to leave me alone._ Liam looked towards the door, undamaged from intrusion. _Harry had a key. But how could Harry, Harry who loved him enough to present him that ring…_ And Liam swallowed, his throat painfully tight as he remembered Louis sticking his head out to whisper the threat. _This time don’t come back._ Maybe Harry didn’t even know. Louis stole the key, then innocently returned it to the drawer, free of Harry’s ex forever, or so he thought. Zayn hated Louis as soon as he laid eyes on him, he must remember all this deep down in his mind.

And now it was Liam who didn’t want to be in here any longer. “Zayn,” he said as he came up to the bedroom door just as Zayn was zipping up his bag. “Give your notice.”

“What?”

“Tell the apartment office you’re moving.”

“But-”

“It’s not safe for you here.” Liam stepped forward and took Zayn’s bag for him. “We’ll come back for the rest later.”

“Hold on, what’s wrong?” Zayn put his hand to Liam’s arm. 

“This,” Liam nodded to the living room. “All of this is what’s wrong. We’re getting you out of here.” 

Liam drove them out of town back towards the house, lost in his own thoughts as Zayn was making a call. _I’ll destroy him,_ he thought in anger. _Zayn doesn’t have to know. I’ll just turn right back around once I drop him off and…then Louis will pay._

Zayn hung up, interrupting Liam’s train of thought. “My car. They’ve towed my car, that’s what that number was calling about.”

Liam smiled weakly at him, but his mind was still raging over the puzzle he put together. “Good, that means you have one. Everything’s coming back together.” Liam turned his eyes back to the road. “Now that you know who you are you can get a…job...” Talking was distracting him from his thoughts. _How badly should I hurt him, for what he did to Zayn? And does Harry know? If he does, he’ll pay too…_

Liam was so wrapped up, he didn’t notice he was driving faster, the old engine growing louder as they headed out of the woods towards the cliffs, the road hugging the coastline. He hadn’t told Zayn about what he knew. He was doing it again, keeping Zayn in the dark, but it would only be temporary. Just long enough to keep him safe at home while he took care of some things…

“Zayn, did you remember anything that happened there, after seeing all that?” Liam asked, wondering how much he knew.

“Yes,” Zayn answered, but his voice was tired, disinterested in conversing. He turned away, curling up in his seat and staring out the window. Liam couldn’t blame him, everything had come tumbling down for Zayn as soon as Liam had showed him the ring. 

_Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it never happens again…_

Liam’s foot went down harder on the pedal, his fingers clenching the wheel. The car took a sharp turn, following the curves in the road. _How could anyone hurt my Zayn? What kind of sick bastard…_

“Liam! Stop!” Zayn yelped.

Liam hit the brakes, the car screeching to fight its momentum. He gripped the wheel tighter, trying to keep control. They swerved off the road, skidding to a halt in the chalky white rocks on the cliff’s edge. “Oh my god,” Liam panted. “What is it?” But Zayn was opening the door and was out of the car, running. 

Shocked, Liam turned off the car and jumped out. Zayn was running back to where they had just been, stumbling a bit on the rocks. Liam sprinted to catch up. “Zayn!!” he called after him. “What are you doing!?”

Zayn didn’t answer, but his steps slowed to a walk, panting as he paced around, like a dog tracking down a scent. Liam caught up with him, concerned by this behavior. “Zayn, what is it?”

“I was here. I remember this.”

“Remember what?” Liam looked around where they stood, halfway between the road and sheer drop to the ocean. Zayn walked cautiously towards the edge, his head bent forward to look over the side to the ocean below, and Liam heart skipped a beat. _Don’t fall!_ Then realized he had forgotten that piece of the puzzle.

_”I fell,” he said._

Liam took two steps closer to him, his ankle nearly twisting on the rocks. “Did he bring you out here? Did he push you?” he asked, hardly daring to think of it.

“Who?” Zayn asked softly, in a trance as he stared at the churning water down below. He looked up, out at the horizon, grey clouds filling the evening sky just as they had on the day Liam found him. “I remember this exactly.” His hands were limp at his sides. He closed his eyes. 

“Zayn,” Liam said, going pale.

Zayn lifted his arms, spreading them as if he were about to take flight. His heels left the ground as he stood up on his toes, in line with the edge. Zayn’s hips began to drift forward, pulling the rest of his body with them, and Liam broke out of his stunned state and dove forward, throwing his arms around Zayn, pulling him tightly to his chest, nearly crushing his body against him, dragging him back a few feet. “W-what are you doing?” 

“That’s how it happened…” Zayn said, his head leaning back against Liam, his eyes still closed, offering no resistance as if he were far away in a dream. 

“You didn’t fall. You jumped,” Liam said more to himself, completely derailed. His own heart rate sped up, beating hard against Zayn’s back, and he stared at the water, dismayed, as he clung to the boy in his arms. “But...what about…”

And now the puzzle he thought he had put together broke apart and reformed, a new image coming together from the pieces. How Harry moved on after splitting with Zayn. How Zayn begged for him back, even when Harry started dating someone new. How hurt Zayn was, rejected time and time again, losing himself in pills and bad tattoos to numb the pain. How Zayn sent him a letter, never to be opened, as a last resort. _I thought I told you to leave me alone._ And Zayn, in a desperate rage, trashed his own apartment, tearful and screaming, before leaving everything behind. Defeated and alone, driving out to the cliffs to end it all. The car abandoned by the roadside.

Nobody had hurt Zayn but himself. And whether the impact of the fall or the near-drowning had damaged his memory, there was only one thing that mattered. Zayn had lived.

Liam buried his face in Zayn’s neck. “You didn’t need to give up,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “Why, why would you?”

“I was unhappy…I made Harry so unhappy…”

“Yes, I felt the same way about Niall. But I got away and started a different life. You didn’t have to go.”

“I didn’t think I would ever be loved again.”

Liam squeezed his eyes shut at his words, hurt that Zayn would think that about himself. A tear escaped Liam’s lashes, falling on Zayn’s neck and rolling down his collar bone. “ _I_ love you though, don’t you know that?”

Zayn turned his head, his nose against Liam’s cheek. “Already? But you’ve fallen in love with the Zayn who couldn’t remember anything. With Z.”

“No, that’s just it. I love who you are now. Even if this Zayn can’t remember everything, it doesn’t matter. I love the Zayn that doesn’t need Harry, the one who doesn’t hurt himself, the one that lets me hold him and protect him. I hope that’s alright with you.” Liam hugged him harder. 

“Yes,” breathed Zayn. His lips met Liam’s, a kiss full of gratitude and forgiveness. He didn’t need to say anything else. 

Liam ran his hand down Zayn’s body, stopping as he felt the envelope in Zayn’s jacket pocket. He reached his hand into the pocket, and Zayn’s hand met his, squeezing instinctively to stop him, but then he relaxed his fingers, allowing him to continue. Liam pulled the envelope out, and held it in front of them both, with his arms encircling Zayn. “Is this what I think it is? Was this you saying… goodbye?”

Zayn slowly nodded, ashamed. 

“Then say goodbye, the right way. Tear it up and let it all go.”

Zayn hesitated, unsure. “Should I open it though, just to see?”

Liam rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “Some things are best forgotten.”

Zayn turned the envelope over in his hands, then nodded determinedly and tore it to shreds, letting the pieces fly off in the wind like snow, carried off towards the ocean. 

Liam led him back to the car, his arm protectively around Zayn’s shoulders. “I’m glad you remembered, though,” Liam said. “My guess was completely wrong. I was about to go kill someone for you.” Even with the gravity of the situation, Zayn was amused.

That night, Zayn lay in naked in Liam’s arms, the two of them curled up together snugly in the small bed, the sound of the waves calming them. Zayn knew who he was now, and remembered quite a bit more. He would be moving the rest of his belongings to Liam’ tomorrow, they’d retrieve his car, and they’d pick up the pieces of his life – and Liam’s – together. He ran his fingers through Zayn’s hair, feeling the soft strands and thinking of the ridiculous pictures on Zayn’s fridge, the way his hair was styled and gelled just so. This was a new Zayn he held, one meant just for him, to find and keep for his own. He’d take care of him, and maybe Zayn could do the same. He pulled the blanket up around them and closed his eyes, ready for that long day to be over. “Goodnight, Zayn,” Liam said softly in the darkness.

“Call me Z,” he whispered back.


End file.
